Chapter 51
Oh, my daughter, she speaks to me at night.
Oh, my daughter, the moonlight gives her sight.
She swims across the starless sky
And doesn’t see my fright.
—Songs of Astola, collected and compiled by Mahira Nazir
Yaseema
He walked through the door, taking my whole heart with him. It closed behind him, but not before I saw him look back and throw me a wink over his shoulder.
When it shuddered to a close, my legs gave out. I fell to the floor, gasping out ugly, messy sobs.
I lay like that on the floor, my arms curled around my stomach, letting myself feel everything, just this once.
When I’d read the inscription, I knew what he would do. I knew that I didn’t have long with him.
Because it’s what I would do.
I let out another broken. My heart had shattered, broken into pieces, crumbled from my chest like the pieces of the King’s crown in the Viceroy.
That type of magic demands blood.
I had killed him, and yet he still managed to stab me in the heart as well. He knew the type of sacrifice the curse demanded.
The sacrifice that Kiyan made, without question.
I wrapped my arms around my waist, wanting to lie here forever, knowing I couldn’t.
“Child, whatever is the matter?”
I startled, wiping my face and sitting back on my knees.
A fae female was crouched down, her hand outstretched toward me.
She had hazel-brown eyes studded with golden flecks, and her dark hair was braided into a coronet on top of her head.
She was wearing a vibrant green frock, beaded and falling over her legs, with matching trousers underneath.
Concern was bright in her eyes, and as I took her in, I realized she reminded me of someone.
Kiyan.
This was Kiyan’s mother.
There were slight differences—her nose straighter and more pointed, her brow more slender, her lips thinner. Her eyes were different—light where his were dark, and his reminded me of fresh, rich soil.
Tell my mother I love her.
I started sobbing anew, taking in everything on her that reminded me of him. He wasn’t here anymore, and I didn’t know how to get him back.
“I don’t think you’re helping, Mother.”
I reared back, jerking my head to the another female voice.
Standing, I took in the two peris behind her, a male and a female.
They were dressed as ornately as the queen, with the same bold features as Kiyan, similar long noses and white hair.
The female walked toward me, concern painted on her face.
“Are you the one who opened the door? Why are you upset? We won’t hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I think she’s human.” The male, who looked so similar to Kiyan, leaned against the stone.
“Of course she’s human,” snapped the female, clearly Kiyan’s sister.
“I didn’t open the door,” I said, finally finding my voice. “He did.”
They all looked at each other.
At last, Kiyan’s mother clutched her chest and whispered, “Kiyan?”
I nodded fiercely, pointing to the inscription on the top of the door. “He took your place.”
Kiyan’s brother straightened from the wall, his eyes wide, his jaw clenched. “What?”
His mother swung her head to the inscription, reading it aloud to herself. Her eyes narrowed; her face contorted with rage. “Damn Azari. That fucking bitch.”
“We’ll just have to open it again,” his sister said, her tone helpful. “Do you have the crown?”
“I do.” I handed it over to her, hope flaring in my heart. “The inscription says the door can only be opened with a royal blood trade, and only once.”
His mother looked back at me, her eyes narrowing. “You can read ancient peri?”
“Not even I can do that very well,” Kiyan’s sister said with an arch of a dark eyebrow.
“Yes, I can. My mother taught me.”
His sister placed the crown on her head, trying the door once more.
“It won’t open,” she said, a desperate edge to her voice. “Are you telling me he’s going to be trapped in there alone?”
“We barely survived and at least we had each other,” muttered Kiyan’s brother, a fierce tic in his jaw that reminded me so much of Kiyan it made my heart ache.
“Why were you here with him?” his mother asked, her voice gentle, taking in my distress.
I wiped my tearstained face, realizing what I must look like.
“I . . . we . . .” I trailed away, unable to form words to describe what had happened, unable to comprehend it myself. I exhaled heavily and tried again, steadying my voice.
“I helped him find the door to the Mountain. The curse meant that the door moved constantly and couldn’t be found.
My magic,”—I held up my hands in an attempt to show them—“it finds lost things. After Kiyan killed Reza, we came straight here. He wouldn’t listen to any other option; he wanted to get you out of the Mountain. ”
I knew I was babbling, I knew they didn’t understand half of what I was talking about, but I couldn’t seem to stop. It helped to talk, to focus on something else besides Kiyan.
Besides my heart breaking in two.
“The battle is over now that King Rusul’s crown is destroyed, and River’s powers have returned.”
“Reza’s dead?” growled Kiyan’s brother, flexing his fist. “Shame, I would have loved to meet him on the battlefield.”
I nodded. “He is. The rebels are down below, in the valley.”
The Queen looked back at the closed door, despair on her face.
“He’ll be okay for now,” said his sister, placing a hand on the Queen’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way to properly lift the curse on the Mountain.”
The Queen nodded, biting her bottom lip hard.
“He won’t starve, and he’ll be at the palace. You know it will take care of him.”
“Yes, but he’s alone.” The Queen wrung her hands together, her face pinched.
I didn’t want to tell them that he’d been alone much of the past ten years, that he’d gone through things they couldn’t possibly have imagined. But that was something they’d discover very soon.
Sorrow gripped me for everything they had lost, for all that their Court and fellow peris had been subjected to.
They would have to start rebuilding soon, start living again, but the impacts of what had happened would be felt for generations.
“We can’t help that now,” Kiyan’s sister said, comforting the Queen. “But he won’t be there as long as we were, I promise you.” Kiyan’s sister’s words were low, and I sensed the ferocity in them.
The Queen took another longing glance at the doors, and I could sense the conflict in her heart, just like mine.
But I also had Kiyan’s voice in my head, urging me on, getting me to finish what I had started, what my mother had started.
Now that I had the crown, I could at least do that.
Safiyya’s scowling face appeared in my mind, and my grandmother’s blazing eyes. They deserved to be free, just like the River Court.
“Come,” said the Queen, glancing down at me. “Let’s see what this world has become in our absence.”
We walked out toward the steps, the sunshine bright on our faces. Below, I could see rebels and soldiers alike staring up at the Mountain, waiting to see if the curse had been lifted.
If only.
“What is your name, human?”
The Queen looked down at me, her eyes kind. She rested a hand on my shoulder as if she somehow understood my connection to Kiyan, understood the devastation in my eyes.
“My name is Yaseema,” I said, finding my voice again. I looked over at Azari’s crown, gracing his sister’s head, and I thought of Kiyan’s final words to me.
Light the River on fire.
I turned to face the three of them, resolve steeling my shoulders. “And I’m afraid I have to ask you a favor.”
* * *
Kiyan’s mother took me to the River, while his sister and brother joined the rebels in the Khangar Pass, healing the injured and rounding up the final soldiers of the Court of Salt.
They barely asked me any questions about why I needed the crown, and why I wanted to go to the River.
It seemed enough that I had helped them, had released them from Tirich Mir, even at the expense of Kiyan’s imprisonment. I told them what I wanted to do, and why, and his sister had handed over the crown without question.
The Queen had used her own life magic to take me there, conjuring the wind, the trees, and even wildlife to carry us over half the Court and reach the rushing water border where I had first arrived.
I stood at the edge of the River, the same spot I had weeks ago. But it all felt different now.
Instead of that girl who ran from the Citadel, who hunted at night to thwart the Empress, I would be returning to lead a revolution. I was going to bring down the barrier that blocked the Empire’s ability to starve us into submission, and then I was going to bring them down.
Light the River on fire.
I put the crown on my head, walked closer to the riverbank, and closed my eyes. I pulled my magic inward, toward the crown, just as I had done with my mother’s bangles.
But nothing happened.
Sweat collected in my palms, and my heartbeat was going so fast it nearly drowned out the rushing river. I pushed down the panic in my chest, focusing all my energy on bringing the wall down, on using the crown.
Maybe I was doing it wrong?
I pushed my magic out this time, my golden threads slamming into the wall, but not combining with the crown in the way they did with the bangles when I’d used them.
I looked back at Kiyan’s mother. “Nothing is happening.”
Surely, she would know how ancient peri objects worked, or maybe the wall had to be destroyed by a peri anyway.
“I could try,” she offered, looking over at the wall. “It’s been a long time since we’ve tried to take it down, but I didn’t have Azari’s crown then. The ancient peris had erected it, desperate to avoid an evil that they never named. The humans agreed, as they were afraid of our magic.”
I wondered if the Citadel had been that unnamed evil, but that thought only increased my anger. If they had erected the wall to avoid the Citadel, then they’d condemned the human lands to them.
The Queen held out her hand for Azari’s crown, and I gave it to her without thought.
I’d welcome any help if it meant destroying the wall.
She took it from my hands, then lifted it toward her head, but stopped.